In Heat
by December-Never-Ends
Summary: In which America is just too cute, and England blushes like a schoolgirl. UKUS, in that order. Rated for smut.


England sipped his tea thoughtfully, leafing over the pages of an old book documenting the life of Queen Elizabeth I. He had read and reread just about every book in his library, and had nearly nothing else to do.

No meetings, no annoyances, no paperwork; just a normal Sunday in his house, relaxing like a normal person should. England should be enjoying himself, indulging in whatever he felt like, but, unfortunately, his thoughts of late had been occupied by a certain American.

The U.S.A.'s economy hadn't been going so good. Then again, neither had his, but that was beside the point. America was quieter during meetings, and he seemed paler than usual; and of course everyone noticed the occasional trip to the bathroom, where America would clasp his hands over his mouth and race for the toilet. As much as England hated to admit it, he was concerned; America was his former colony, after all.

And, with nothing to fill his mind except for America, England felt like a blushing school girl. He growled slightly and tried to distract his thoughts, using the best way he knew how.

Porn.

Duh! France is the country of love, Spain is the country of passion, Italy is the country of romance, and England is the country of eroticism. Leafing through the pages of one of the many magazines hiding under his bed, England sighed blissfully. America was out of his head at last.

Yes, England was indeed a pervert. He did get aroused at the slightest of things, and he did have fetishes and sexual fantasies that could make even France blush. But, oddly enough, England wasn't aroused at all. In fact, looking at the attractive men and women on the pages only bored him. Then America flickered through his mind again, and he felt a twitch from down below.

England groaned, burying his face in his hands. He really was a pervert, wasn't he?

Since about a few years ago, England had felt something change about the American. He had become less arrogant, somehow. He was still obnoxious, yes, but it was in a different way. Now, it seemed almost endearing. It was strange, about how only a couple centuries ago the mere thought of America was enough to send England into tears, yet now they were able to hold casual conversations; go out to eat together; play video games online; watch horror movies together; have sleepovers.

Heat pooled at the bottom of England's stomach, and he blushed as his little 'problem' made itself evident in his pants. It took him several minutes to pause his heavy breathing and calm himself down. The bulge in his trousers settled, but the heat was still there, mocking him. This wasn't the first time that had happened while thinking about America.

His fingers nearly trembled as he grabbed his coat off his chair, running out of his house after carefully locking it (as well as storing a small bottle of lubricant in his coat pocket). What he was about to do was perhaps the stupidest thing of the century; no, of the millennium.

He was off to see America. What an idiotic idea.

The boy with golden blonde hair, baby blue eyes, and perfect tan skin. England bit his lip as he thought more about him, trying desperately to calm himself down. He called up his boss (he actually had two; the Queen and the Prime Minister, but the Queen simply adored him*, so he called her instead) and asked for a plane ride to New York to be secured immediately. He didn't say what for, but he could hear the smile in her voice when the insightful woman realized he wanted to visit America.

But it was much, much more complicated than that, wasn't it?

The plane ride was stupid, uneventful, and the little girl behind England wouldn't stop poking him. Therefore, the author will not bother putting in details, because she is lazy and dislikes pointless plot in her smut**.

When he landed, to say it was raining was an understatement. It was pouring buckets on the city. England hurried through the city streets, soaked through and shivering violently. He felt like his body was on fire, except he was cold and wet. Did that even make sense? The freezing water also seemed to get rid of the warmth in his abdomen, which he was thankful for.

He found himself staring up at a large household; the garden was unkempt, albeit beautiful, and the roof was a bright green. England sighed. Did America not know how to keep his own household in check?

_America_. England shivered and knitted his eyebrows. He didn't even have a motive to be here! Then again, America _always_ visited him without a motive. Did he need one? Would America be mad? Would he be sent away-

"England!"

England blinked and glanced up. America was standing at his doorstep, his mouth twisted into a bright smile. England felt the warmth return slightly. "Dude, come on in! You're freezing to death; my hero senses can sense it!"

England chuckled and allowed himself to be ushered into America's house. He hung his coat up by the door and took off his shoes. America draped a warm towel over him and England settled down on the couch, shaking violently.

"Dude, you're shaking! God, how long were you out there?"

"About..." England's brain struggled to find the right words. "Twenty minutes of walking through New York..."

America blinked and his arms instinctively reached out to embrace England. "You're insane! You could've died!" he exclaimed, pulling England close. He didn't seem to mind as his clothes got wet, and England's though process stopped when he found his face buried in America's chest. England closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. America smelled like coffee and stars, if that was even possible. England sure didn't know, but it was a nice scent either way.

"Here, I'll help warm you up. Man, you're crazy, Iggy," America muttered, rubbing his hands up and down England's back. The towel shifted and fell off of him, and as America reached out to retrieve it, England wrapped his arms around America's neck. The cold numbed his self-control; he wanted this, and he was going to get it.

"W-whoa!" America stuttered. "Hey, uh, Iggy, w-what are you doing? Are you drunk?" America felt his face flush and he hesitantly brought his hands back up to England's back, rubbing circles along his spine. England felt his lower half warm up again, and he shuddered.

He brought his lips up to America's ear. "America," he whispered, "I want you to rub lower..."

"Um," America glanced around. "All right..." He started to rub England's lower backside, just above his bottom, when England whispered again, "lower."

"But, Iggy..." America whined. England felt the heat pool up in his stomach, and he bit his lip to keep himself from moaning. God, he was a pervert, wasn't he? "If I go any lower, I'll..." America paused when he felt something poke his leg. "Wait a minute... E-England, are you _hard_?" he cried, prying England off of him.

England blushed harder, and shifted to cross his legs. "S-sorry..." he muttered, his voice sounding lower than usual.

America bit his lip, and he pulled England back in his lap. "It's fine. Just... don't do anything weird, okay?"

England sighed, nodding as he rested his head on America's shoulder. His whole body was hot now; unbelievably so; it felt like he was burning. He couldn't help himself and planted a small kiss on America's neck.

America tensed for a moment, but settled down, humming _America (My Country 'Tis of Thee)_ as he continued to rub England's back. It has the same tune as _God Save the Queen, _thought England_***. _Their tune. England placed a few more kisses on whatever parts of America's neck he could, before tugging on his shirt collar.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," America said, grabbing England's hand. "I said no weird stuff, okay?"

"Kissing you isn't weird?" England countered, crossing his arms. He was now perched comfortably in America's lap, and could clearly see the blush on his face.

"U-um," America faltered. "That... may be welcome."

"Oh, really?" England smirked. He had a plan. A stupid, risky one, but a plan! "Even... this?" he asked before kissing America on the mouth.

"Mmf!" America shuddered. He clearly wasn't ready for the sudden kiss, and England took that moment to his advantage and forced his tongue into America's mouth. When he pulled away, a thin strand of saliva connected their lips.

"U-um," America stuttered, looking away. "England, I-_I_..."

"Yes?" England said, panting slightly. America gulped and England cupped his cheek with one hand. "Something the matter?"

"I-I really like you!" America blurted out, his eyes scrunched shut. England's eyes widened, and he forgot to breathe for a moment.

"You... what?" England whispered disbelievingly.

"Ah, dude, don't make me say it again..." America groaned. "I _like _you. Like, in a romantic way, and stuff..." he trailed off, shyly looking away.

England couldn't help it. He burst out laughing. America glared at him and attempted to push him off his lap, but England threw his arms around America's neck. "That..." he gasped between giggle fits. "Was ultimately the _worst_ love confession I've ever heard!

America growled and roughly pushed England onto the other side of the couch. "Shut up! Ugh," he groaned, covering his face with a pillow.

"Hey, you git." England patted the top of America's head. "I never said it was a bad thing."

"…Really?" America asked hopefully, pulling the pillow down just enough to see England's face. The Brit smiled before continuing.

"Yeah," he said, ripping away the pillow. Streams of water ran down his hair and neck, and it felt cool against his hot skin. "Maybe… it's something really good." He then crashed their lips together.

America responded almost immediately, trying to push England's tongue out of his mouth. England wasn't having any of that, though. He kissed America fiercely, and when he pulled back they were both left panting and speechless.

"S-so," America breathed. "You like me back…?"

"Of course I do, you idiot," England grunted, rubbing their groins together. America moaned at the sudden friction and lifted his hips.

England kissed America again briefly, before kissing down his neck. America hardly put up a fight as his shirt was peeled off, and discarded on the floor. The rhythm of pounding rain on the roof lulled both the men into a state of serenity, and England moved to unzip his pants.

Before doing so, he looked up at America. "Do you want this?"

"Do I want this?" America asked disbelievingly. "Do I _want _this? Hell yeah I want this! Just do it already."

England grumbled something about this going way to fast, but hurriedly pulled his pants down to his knees. America fumbled at the fly of his own jeans, pulling them off and flipping over. He lifted his butt in the air for a moment, wiggling it. The heat wavering around England's groin was unbearable, and he pushed his fingers near America's mouth.

America looked up at him through his slightly foggy glasses and frowned. "What?" he asked. "Do it already!"

England blinked down at America. "Are you stupid?" he hissed, smacking America's bottom. "I have you prepare you first. Now suck."

"All… right," America hesitantly agreed, taking England's fingers into his mouth. England suppressed a moan as he felt America's rough tongue slide between his fingers, coating them thickly with saliva. Finally, after England was satisfied with America's work, he pulled out his fingers and slid on of them into America's hole.

"Ah!" America gasped. England wiggled his finger, leaning over America.

"Does it hurt?" He whispered into America's ear.

"It… feels weird. Put in another one," America shuddered. He lifted his lower body a little bit more, and England smiled as he spied America's erection proudly leaning forward, waiting for release.

"All right, poppet," England complied, shoving another finger in. And another. A hot tear rolled down America's face, and England licked it up. It tasted salty and sweet at the same time, England thought, and he kissed America on the cheek.

"It hurts, Iggy!" America whined. England started slowly moving his fingers in and out, whispering sweet nothings into America's ear. America didn't really catch any of them, so he didn't react when England said 'I love you'.

"Yes, I know it does," England sighed, trying to repress memories of his first time. Scotland**** was the last thing that needed to be on his mind right now. "Just try to endure it, okay?"

America nodded, another tear escaping him. England pulled a small bottle of lube out of his coat after one of his faeries brought it over to him (strangely enough, they always seemed to like watching whenever he had sexual intercourse. It was probably an over protective reflex from what happened with Scotland. Or they were just perverts as well….) and smeared what he deemed to be enough on his manhood. He flipped America back over so that they were facing each other.

Then he thrust into America.

America screamed and latched his arms around England's neck. England grunted and wiped away the tears streaming down his face.

"It-It _hurts_," America groaned, licking the shell of England's ear. England shuddered, and thrust again.

"I know, poppet, I know," he gasped. "It'll feel better… trust me."

America nodded.

England continued to pound into America, and after a few rough first minutes, found a rhythm. America began moaning in pleasure, moving himself along with England. They kissed each other all over, sometimes on the lips, sometimes not, and England whispered quick, breathy 'I love you's into America's ear whenever he could.

America yelled out something intangible, but England liked to think it was his name. Leaning close to America, he nibbled on his neck before biting down and sucking harshly. He wanted America to be marked, so everyone would know he was his.

The heat had stretched below his stomach. England reached a hand down and began fondling America, who mewled as he threw his head back. England grunted, and he felt his body tensing, preparing for release.

But he didn't want to cum yet. Not until after America.

America's grip tightened, and, with a cry, he came all over their chests and stomachs. England felt his release through the skin, and gave a quick warning cry before he came inside America.

England pulled out, exhausted, and stared down at America through half-lidded eyes. America stared back, panted heavily and a small whimper escaped his lips as England fully exited him.

"That…" England muttered, snuggled into America's arms. They positioned themselves so that they faced each other, lying on the couch. The rain continued to thunder outside, and the warmth in England's body melted away to the pleasant feeling of America's skin pressed up against his. "…Was way too rushed," England finished.

"So?" America grinned, and England found himself grinning back.

It wasn't perfect, but it was a good life anyhow.

***UKUSUKUSUKUSUKUSUKUS***

****Japan blushed furiously as he videotaped England and America's lovemaking from outside. England was a seme- who knew!

His conference with America would have to wait. He had yaoi, and yaoi was meant to be shared and posted on social networking websites.

He smiled to himself. Life was good.

***UKUSUKUSUKUSUKUSUKUS***

Notes:

*- It's in my head-cannon that the Queen simply loves England, but he annoys the Prime Minister to no end. On purpose. Yeeeaaaah~

**- It's true. I like my smut plot free, thankyouverymuch.

***- The tunes of the songs are the same. Dammit, America, you just love stealing England's music, don't you? XD

****- It's in my head-cannon as well that Scotland pushed England into sex when he was younger (or flat out raped him), therefore causing England to believe sex has no emotional connection what-so-ever. Ugh, I need to stop including depressing crap in my fanfics.

**This was written for a friend of mine. Enjoy this pointless fanfiction, _mi amigo~  
_I know with Japan at the end it was cliche, but I couldn't help it! I'm sorry~ **


End file.
